Madness: A Eulogy
by GronHatchat
Summary: Jervis Tetch is called a Mad Hatter, but in the eyes of his newest Alice, he is as an angel. But the demon wears the angel skin, of course.
1. Chapter 1

_'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves _

_Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;_

_All mimsy were the borogoves,_

_And the mome raths outgrabe._

Watering those planets, with haste only a mad gardener could produce. All for her…all for her…

_"Beware the Jabberwock, my son _

_The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun _

_The frumious Bandersnatch!_

Those three hoodlums would not trouble her anymore. No. Not with stab wounds. Not with singed eyelids and broken necks. He had painted them red. Red…

_He took his vorpal sword in hand; _

_Long time the manxome foe he sought— _

_So rested he by the Tumtum tree, _

_And stood awhile in thought. _

The madman held aloft his shovel, and took some steps from the freshly planted flowers. When he leaned against the nearby banana tree, his world should shift once more.

_And, as in uffish thought he stood, _

_The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,_

_Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, _

_And burbled as it came!_

But there was knocking on the door, and screaming down below. The madman looked over the side of the roof, and yep, there they were. Five of them, all gathered around each other, concealed underneath five black umbrellas as the evening threw down rain at them. Knocking at his door. No, not knocking. Banging! BANGING! How rude of them to come to this tea party without being invited. He looked at his garden shovel in hand, his vorpal sword, and loved the mad inspiration that came with it.

_One, two! One, two! And through and through _

_The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! _

_He left it dead, and with its head _

_He went galumphing back._

The bag of fertilizer, sitting so precariously against the edge of the rooftop, gleamed at him with a golden aura as if there were life in it, calling to him. Asking him, "Hey Hatter! Come and take me with a spoonful of sugar for each naughty child!" And the madman did take his Vorpal, and with it, spooned the fertilizer from the bag! That fertilizer which burned an intense green, far greener than fertilizer should be…far hotter, too, could anyone but the madman see the haze about it, they may run. But they did not, and he did, and the madman stretched out his hand over the edge of the rooftop and tipped the shovel over. Oh how it burned! Oh how it seared! Oh how it melted! Acidic! Yes, ACIDIC! Delicious acid, do you work, make them ash and bone and burke! Their screams were fierce, as they did stumble, and tilting the whole bag over the edge, his hands did not fumble! And poured passionately the acidic fertilizer, that burned them with the rain…

_"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? _

_Come to my arms, my beamish boy!_

_O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" _

_He chortled in his joy. _

She was waving at him from the table, a smile upon her glazed face, her expression like a doll's perfection, and she was asking him if he was coming back to the party soon. He smiled so warmly at her. So lovingly. "Yes, my dear. Coming soon! The deed is just beginning, after all!"

_Twas brillig, and the slithy toves _

_Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;_

_All mimsy were the borogoves, _

_And the mome raths outgrabe._

The madman took his lovely doll and carried her away, throwing her first into the flowerbeds, and proceeding to have his way. He plucked her petals yet smelled the sweets of natural scented glands, and she did not scream, even as he dug a shovel in both her hands. The blood that squirted from her palms was heaven and he smelled it as raspberry jam.

"Come on, dear, don't be stingy, save some for the madman." Stitched. Stitches were needed.

Of course, Ramira awoke in a daze, her vision hindered by a cloth of sorts. Blackness everywhere. Her head was rattling, and she was blindfolded. Of course she was.

But her mouth remain unbound. "HEY!" She screamed as loudly as she could. She knew not where she was, nor why she was here. And that did not matter right now. The man…the short man had attacked her in that alleyway. _Never take alleyways, no matter how tempting they may appear, Ramira_, her mother had told her years before. But she had passed on such fears as superstition. Movie logic. Nothing truly appealing to reality. And it had cost her everything. Her hands were throbbing, but she could not move her arms. She seemed to be bound to something very soft. By feel, she would swear by the knowledge that it was an armchair of sorts. Comfy kidnapping?

"HEY!" she screamed again, foolishly struggling against her bindings. "LISTEN TO ME! I SWEAR IF I GET OUT OF-" But then she stopped. She was being stupid. So stupid. Why on earth would she shout threats? Why would she have such hate for her captor? He had _saved_ her! Yes, saved her. He was the one she needed to be with. Her heart softened as joy overcame her. "I want to see your face, my guardian angel."

"Just a moment, sweet Alice," her captor whispered into her ear. Her mouth opened slightly as it trembled. That _voice._ It was more than orgasm, more than perfection. It was essence in full, obsession to the ear. Music, my love, music. Play your melody again. She felt him skin brush against her arm as he untied her hands. The touch was poetry. She felt his breath on her neck as he bent forward to remove her blindfold, and it was like the wind in a silent snowfall.

And then…vision! So much vision to behold. She was sitting strapped to the most comfortable orange armchair. Before her, the most magnificently laid out table, at least ten feet long and a host to several more armchairs. Men and women, dressed in the most elegant of tuxedos and gowns, sat at each, ten in all, and all of them wore beautiful hats atop their heads. Some had feathers large and small, some had colors vibrant and alive, designs of poke dots and zig zags, twirley doos and flom bay patterns. All of this, it seemed, was grandeur, and Ramira-no, Alice- loved it. She clapped her hands enthusiastically as she beheld the wondrous dinner before her, of the pies and cakes and various types of teapots and cookies around her, and as she did, as her joy overcame her, she saw that her wrists were adorned in emeralds and sapphires upon golden bracelets.

And there was her angel, standing beside her, looking at her with such tender love in his eyes. That soft red hair, those eyes so _blue_, oceans and islands in them. He wore the cutest green tail suit, the most _poka dotted _bowtie, and a large tophat too wide to be socially acceptable for those who could not _see_. The hat was dark green, and encrusted in the tower of it was a bright red jewel. He offered her a white gloved hand, and she took it, giving him a look that suggested she was his for all that desired. She did not notice the bandages upon her palms. Alice was relaxed. Yes, Alice. Always Alice. Never Ramira. Just Alice…

"So, my dear, what kind of tea do you prefer?" he asked her softly, as he gently pressed his lips to her hand. "Make your choice, but take your time. We have all the time in the world, Alice. Hey, everyone, Alice is awake!"

"Hurrah!" the seated guests before them cheered, clapping their hands excitedly as everyone beheld the two of them. Alice blushed…or was it Ramira…and looked down at the plate of shortbread and sugar cookies before her. They twinkled in the dim firelight of the assorted candles hanging from the chandelier.

"So, my dear, what kind of tea?" the angel asked her once more, stroking her golden hair with flourish. He tapped the hat that she now realized was sat upon her head. She touched it as well, feeling the white lace on the border of the brim, feeling the soft cloth that made up its entirety and loving what her angel had given her. It almost seemed like music was coming from it. Soft music, so distinct and distant, but a _part_ of her!

_I could listen to a babbling brook_

_And hear a song that I could understand_

_I keep wishing it could be that way_

_Because my world would be a Wonderland_

"Listen, everyone, she's singing…here her angelic voice!" the angel proclaimed to the other guests. Alice or Ramira, Ramira yet Alice shook her head, as if waking from a dream that had persisted into the land of the awake.

"Was I?" she asked softly.

He stroked her cheek. "Yes, my dear. Now, what tea would you prefer?"

"Oh, yes…sweet?"

The angel chortled. "My dear, you are a mad one! Here, have my special brand, I made it just for you." He produced from his tailor coat a flask, most beautifully silver and rimmed with golden orbs set into the work. It was topped with a clean, true diamond, its point deadly sharp in its look. He removed the diamond from the flask and offered the flask to her.

_DON'T DRINK IT!_

Something in her head screamed at her, but she could only frown at such demands from her mind. A small scrap of paper attached to the flask read different. _DRINK ME_ it read. That command came from the angel, and the angel's word was law. The angel was to be worshipped. And then there was the smell. That sweet smell of strawberry flavoring. Strawberries were her favorite fruit.

_I MEAN IT! DON'T DRINK IT!_

"Be quiet," she hissed to herself silently. The angel gave her a funny look, as did the other guests, but she smiled all the same and tipped the flask backwards, towards her mouth. Soon there would be the taste of strawberries in her mouth. The sweet, indeed strawberry flavored tea did indeed bring her taste buds to new heights as the liquid poured down her throat. It was bliss, to say the least. The angel looked pleased, and was positively shaking with delight.

"Perfect," he told her, bending forward and kissing her lightly on the lips. The taste of it was joy, the tenderness of it was fire. Passion, to say the least. It was not sensual, however, nor was it sexually oriented. Because this was not romance. It was existence. A simple fact to be stated and stamped. He pulled back, his eyes glinting as he relished in the moment shared with his Alice. "Now…sleep forever…"

And that was when the poison kicked in. Alice-no, suddenly, in all manner of things, Ramira- gasped as something pulsated hard in her chest. The angel could only stand and watch, his guests as well, as her breathing began to pace, and sweat began to pour, heated from an invisible fire, in masses. Pain shot through her nerves and she felt blood rushing into her head. A heart attack!? She grasped at her chest, her hand suddenly shaking in a very violent way. The angel sighed, stroking her hair softly as he watched her shrink in her chair, her eyes closing slowly as fog began to take her senses.

And there were so many voices inside of her head.

_It's okay, just fall. Down the rabbit hole into a Wonderland of your choosing. And don't be afraid of it. Just embrace it. It all ends the moment you refuse to see the Wonder within the land. _

But she did not want to go…not yet…the rabbit hole was tempting but scary more so…

_Twas brillig, and the slithy toves _

_Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;_

_All mimsy were the borogoves, _

_And the mome raths outgrabe._

Shall she die? The angel breathed in the smell of death. She would soon fall well beyond the rabbit hole…any second now…

Ramira faded. And somewhere near, a window crashed…


	2. Chapter 2

A broken window, and fragments of glass. Glass everywhere. Broken, broken, broken! Why broken!? Who the heck would break and bash and smash and sonofabatchhowtheellcouldhedothis!? Words that only express horror, and horror that could only produce pain.

The angel turned on his heel and snatched up his dear Alice…his dead Alice…she simply must be dead! To be alive would be a dishonor, to dishonor the angel would be sin, and to sin the angel's prohibitions would be the ultimate shame! A ringing in his ears and a mind melting into a mess…

_WHY MUST HE COME!? WHY NOW?_ He pulled his sweet Alice from her chair, but the shadow was approaching…the egg man! Dumpty!

"Always breaking, never fixing!" the angel screamed, pointing at the shards of glass that lay at their feet.

"Jervis…" Dumpty whispered, shaking his head.

_Humpty Dumpty broke through the wall…_

Black he wore, and tall and leering. Pointy ears and those eyes…pure white, as if hidden behind some sort of visor…and in his hand, a black staff, at least six feet in length…

_Humpty Dumpty sought the angel's fall…_

The egg man held the staff up, pointing it at the angel and the woman in his arms. By now, the assembled guests were standing from their chairs, their faces confident and set as they all faced the dreaded visitor who stepped over the shattered glass of his vandalism.

_All the king's horses and all the king's men…_

They were all crackling their knuckles, all leering with bitter distaste…and the angel was silently egging them on…egging…haha…egg, yes…the egg man. He had to be broken some more…

"Is she dead, Jervis?" he asked in a soft voice. Soft, assured, peaceful, even. Not on edge. Sure of everything that was to happen, annoying confident as always. He must be broken!

"What did you call me!?" the angel seared, and his guests made such noises. Hissing and spitting and growling. Like animals. Yes, animals.

The dark one moved quickly, running forward with the staff at the ready. Immediately, the five guests on the dark one's side moved as well, while the angel made a move for the nearby door. He made such a pace with fiery intent to get to the door, his Alice's head banging against the side of the table as he ran. The other guests at the table began to snatch up knives, just as the first five of the small army made clash against the vile egg man.

The staff struck forward, forced into the cranium of the nearest attacker, a woman who had punched out at him, her eyes crossed, ever so slightly. Of course, the dark one knew that they were not in their right minds. The hats! As she fell, her hat did not slide off. It was attached to her! He began to back away as the crowd reached a mass of point and ten soldiers met him with screams and curses…

_SHALL NOT FREAKING PUT HIM BACK TOGETHER AGAIN! NO! NO NO NO!_

_ Run angel, run as fast as you can, and don't drop dear Alice…how did he find me!? HOW!? _

_"_It's not fair!" the angel, or perhaps a demon, screamed loudly. He was on the stairway of the boarding house and was already making his way onto the lower floor. He could hear kicking and screaming, banging and crunching above, and it was to speculation as to the wounds of the egg or the pain of his beloved guests.

But no matter. The door was there, and his destination was set. The demon carried his Alice to the front door and kicked it open. And when he did, his heart stopped. The Red Knight!

He was standing there, just outside the door, waiting, a combat stance prepared for the coming of the demon. Young and daring, the Red Knight stared into his eyes as the demon became frozen in place…

"Give her to me, Tech," the Knight demanded. "Now!"

The demon saw something behind the Knight, situated next to the sidewalk beyond. Long and sleek, black and well armored. The steed! The steed of the Red Knight! He simply must have it! The Knight, however, saw where the demon was looking, and wagged his finger.

"I don't think so. You release that woman and submit. Bat ran you down here, huh? Well, that's why I was waiting. Just in case you decided to run. You're not going to get away, Jervis."

"WATCH YOUR MOUTH!" the demon cried, losing himself for a moment, and that moment of stock still fury was all that was needed. The Red Knight moved quickly, bending down onto one knee and forcing a strike upward, his hand bent back to expose the wrist in an uppercut. The force of it! Oh, damn, the force of it! The hard rock of a strike almost seemed to become one with the demon-no, Jervis Tetch's- stomach. Even as he began to fly backwards, the Red Knight- that wondrous Robin- snatched Ramira from the Hatter's arms and pulled her away. Tetch hit the floor of the lobby room hard, the wind knocked from him as if he had been hit by a small boulder. Shall he test if that was the genuine feel of such an event? Could boulders kill? Perhaps they could break eggs. Yes…a boulder…

Robin came forward, but only as slowly as he dared. He still had the woman in his arms, and he dare not drop her. _Where are you, Bruce?_ He could hear quite a commotion going on up stairs…

Bruce moved quickly, diving forward into the table itself, leaping upon its fine cloth and tasty arrangements as three knife wielding guests came after him. Something about the mind control device in their hats gave them a strangely powerful edge. They seemed immune to pain, immune to fear, even. They were an unstoppable force, and the only way to put an end to it was to damage them to the point of no walking. But these people were innocent, and he could only do so much damage before he had to hold back. The Hatter had known this…and loved the thought of it. Insurance, in case of an unexpected arrival to his little tea party…

He had only managed to bring down three of them, having damaged their legs to the point where they were mindless groveling around on the floor, their zombie-like expressions eerie as they came for him. Seven guests were climbing onto the table now, which was surprising sturdy for the masses upon it, all of them yielding knives and forks, even. Forks, for the lives of them!

He had a Batarang in one hand, the staff in the other, but just how much good would they do? They were coming on either side, and moving fast. _Now, Bruce, move now! _Two off them on either side, a tall man and a tall woman, both made dive the knives in hand, but Batman-of course, Batman, never Humpty- was already moving forward, diving off of the table. Just as he hit the floor, he twisted around in place, pressing a button built into the side of the Batarang as he did. A small light upon it flashed a bright green, and he sighed, offering a small prayer. _Please let this work…_

The crowd of seven were all standing above him, looking down at them with murder in their eyes.

"Here," he offered darkly, and without anymore hesitation he threw the Batarang into the middle of the crowd, the object striking chest first into a finely dressed, elderly man. The moment the impact came, the rupture triggered a release mechanism within the Batarang. A charged ignited within, and released tiny valves containing chemicals, so as for an immediate reaction. Ionic waves!

A short burst of blue and electricity scattered in every direction, forming a sort of ring explosion that sailed throughout the room. Bruce threw his cape over him at once, the soft Strocterial fibers built into the suit a promise of shield against the short burst of biological ionization. He heard them fall, one by one, _thump thump thump _down onto hard wood. After waiting a moment, he took a breath, and then removed the cape, turning around to survey the damage.

The seven drones lay out cold upon the table, their faces filled with shock from the sudden burst of electricity that had taken them. Bruce looked behind him, and saw that the other three that had been earlier incapacitated were also laying still like stone. But he had to be sure! He raised an arm and began to tap away at the mini-computer built into his gauntlet.

"Check heart rates in ten feet diameter," he spoke into a small microphone along the computer's side. At once, the computer glowed orange, and scannings indicated that they all were in fact still living, as no negative reds crossed within view upon the screen. "Thank you, Lord…" he whispered, punching the floor in triumph. He stood up now, taking a deep breath. "And now for you, Tetch…"

He ran for the door, out onto the landing where he jumped over the railing, gliding down towards the wall of the lobby below. He struck out a foot and kicked hard, propelling himself down onto the floor of the lobby, landing right before Robin and the woman he held in his arms, still unmoving…never moving again…

"Now's not the time for showing off, is it?" Richard asked, raising an eyebrow at his mentor. Bruce chose not to reply, but instead began to examine Ramira. "She's gone, Bruce…I've already checked…"

"Yes, I know…" Bruce said, softly, as he brushed back her hair. "But how did she die, that's my question?" He pressed a button on his staff, and at once the thing retracted, both ends of the weapon shooting inward. He pocketed the short cylinder and produced something else: a sphere shaped glass. He glanced down at Jervis, who lay staring up at the two of them, dazed and bruised. But such hate in his eyes. So much hate! "Jervis, do you want to tell me what you did?"

"Away…with you…focking egg…"

Richard raised his eyes. "I think we should call it in, now," he said, not taking his eyes off of the madman. "His friends?"

"He had quite a bit up there, but they're all sleeping. For now…" Bruce pressed the glass sphere against the woman's cheek, and said clearly, "Scan."

The sphere flashed several different colors at once, and numbers began to flash in green, projected by a small device built into the top interior. **4, 7, 7, 7, 4, 7**… it was still making for a deduction. 4 and 7 meant two things: Malignant neoplasm or sepsis. After a moment, the sphere indicated a 7. Sepsis. Blood poisoning. Bruce shook with fury when he read the number, and he turned towards the Hatter, still keeping the sphere pressed against the woman's cheek.

"What kind of poison? You can tell me or this device will but I'd rather hear it from you…"

"What does it matter? My sweet Alice has been freed…freed…" The demon, that "angel", the foul Mad Hatter stood to his feet, Bruce stepping forward, ready for a strike.

"Robin, take her back to the car and get her to the hospital. I don't think there's anything we can do for her but the sphere will give us some intel on what he used," Bruce told his companion, and Richard nodded at once, stepping towards the door.

"I'll phone in the authorities, Bat," he replied, pulling the door fully open with his foot, and he vanished out onto the street. Bruce kicked the door behind him, slamming it shut. Now he and the Hatter stood together, shrouded in the dimness of hardly lit hall. The only light source was a glassed in lamp that seemed to be dying. In this darkness, Bruce could almost see a redness illuminating outward from the Hatter's eyes as the madman glowered at him with such _hate_.

Pocketing the device, which already was sending in a signal to the Batcave with data, Bruce pointed a dark finger at the madman in the dark. "Make a move," he warned. It was a warning, and nothing less. Three words were all that were needed to convey the promise that was set with Jervis Tetch's name.

"She's free, Eggman… so free. I set her free, and do you know what? I _enjoyed_ it. That tea of hers was special. My special tea… ha! I do love using that pun…"

"Why did she need to be set free?"

"BECAUSE!" Jervis screamed, his eyes widening madly. "She belongs in Wonderland, needs to be in Wonderland, away from this boring world, down the rabbit focking hole! I sent her away from this boring reality, into the dream! INTO THE FOCKING DREAM!"

Bruce shook his head. "She's dead, Tetch! Dead! How is that a dream for her? How is that a life!?"

"We all must die, Eggman. If we don't, we simply fade into a nightmare, but the dream is the true needed essence. If we don't have that essence, we melt. And if we melt-"

"Enough. You're sounding like Victor…"

"Zsaaz, you mean? Oh, ho ho, no, Eggman. I'm not deluded to the sense where I believe people _must_ be killed to be set free, no…no, no, no…I believe that _Alice_ must be set free. She's everywhere. All around and around….she has so many lives. Omnipresent, as ever, and I need to set her all free. All of her has to enter the Rabbit Hole, because if not, _if not_, then she will neer truly be free. So I find her, again and again and again, and I free her… can you not tell me that I am as much a hero as you?"

"No…no, Jervis, because some people don't desire to be free, not in that way. And you…you are a murderer. Evil. Far less than the Hatter you pretend to be."

Jervis gasped, and he began to hyperventilate on the spot. Pointing a shaking finger at the dark warrior before him, his breath caught hard as he gasped, "YOU TAKE THAT BACK YOU MISERABLE SACK OF SH-"

Bruce propelled himself forward, running at Jervis like a wild boar on the prey. Jervis turned on the spot and began to run, but Bruce was already upon him, his fist sinking into the back of the madman's head, and the Hatter fell forward, hitting the carpet face first. Bruce wasted no time in sending another strike to the man's cranium, and the Hatter did not move anymore.

"I'm sorry, Jervis…but you're a murderer. What else could have happened?"

Bruce sighed, leaning against the wall with his head bowed. How could it have come to this? And how far would it always go? His mind went to Richard, already speeding for the hospital with another dead victim of the Hatter's in tow? And he thought of Alfred, who had warned him prior to this apprehension that the Hatter truly did have a euphoria for death? In a way, the idea was mirror to Victor Zsaaz, and he should have known that Alfred was going to be right: that there would be no hope to save the woman. And what of the people upstairs? All of them would awake, and he would ensure that they were freed of his mind control, but what had they experienced in being forced into submission? Had they sat there and applauded the woman's death? Supported the Hatter's ideas? It was all maddening, and it was only going to be worse, in the end, when he continued his pursuit. Because he would free himself, as always. Something would happen. A Joker on the prowl…mind's destroyed by Scarecrow's experimentations…and Bruce could only watch as it repeated and he recycled the acts.

He glanced over at the Hatter. "Jervis…how long will it be…until _I_ fall down the Rabbit Hole?"


	3. Chapter 3

Arkham was always the coldest part of Jervis's life. Always cold was the separation from his beloved Wonderland…and his Alice. The room was far too small for his comfort, and dark…and cold…

But could not hold him. Notforever.

"Wonderland, wonderland, I love you, do not imagine for a moment that I am not going to see you again," Jervis told Wonderland. A smile was plastered thickly upon his face. He glanced towards his cell door, constructed of fine, reinforced glass, and looked across the way. Right into the cell of Harleen Quinzell. So passionately beautiful were the actions of prison guards who allowed a see through into these cages of animals. Her long blonde hair, her soft blue eyes, and the look of _murder_. She hated this reality as much as him, detested the idea of this false outlook. That was why she sought out the Jester, because he was as Wonderland's essence.

_Jervis Tetch, my friend, you see a lot of potential within her, don't you? Well, let me tell you right now, touch her like that again and I'll stab your eyes out, and serve them to you along with a cup of your own sweet blood…and you'll enjoy it. _

She was typing away at a mini-laptop upon her cell desk, specially encoded with security inhibitors for blocking network access. The only thing that the device was capable of was Word applications, for entertainment purposes in literature. He watched her longingly, craving her blonde hair in his nostrils. Positively clawed at the glass for her. The sound of squeaking emitted from the scratching on glass, so loud that it echoed out into the hall.

She looked up, glancing over at the source of the noise. When she saw Jervis standing there, staring mindlessly at her as he clawed, the bulge in his pants all too evident, a look of utter disgust crossed her face, and she pointed a finger at him, then at her throat. She softly brushed the finger across her throat, and smiled menacingly at him.

Jervis sighed, turning away from her and retreating to the back of his cell. Harleen smirked and turned back to her laptop, and he was sure that she was already plotting his death. After the last incident, when Warden Sharp had allowed for an "Arkham swimming day", the Clown Princess of Crime had been all but apprehensive towards the Hatter in the matter of a death wish.

_He'll die, Harley. He'll burn and be stabbed and strangled._ The Jester had said those words right in front of him. The nerve! He lay upon his bed and fantasized about the Jester meeting his own end, at his own hand. And then, he could make Harleen meet her destiny, because she _was_ Alice. She had to be Alice, could not be any other way. He had succeeded in getting part of her into that wonderful world, but there were still so many, and Harleen was especially a vivacious incarnation of his beloved Kingsley.

"Soon, soon, soon, soon, soon, soon," he breathed to himself, pounding his fist downward again and again within the air. It was a knife, and the air was the Jester. And what of Vale? Oh, that wondrous Vale. The way she spoke and presented herself on GCN. How she announced to the world about the parts of Alice that he had freed and sent back to Wonderland. She was his announcer, his queen of a messenger, but her time simply had to come soon too. She was Alice as well, and he had to save her. Had to release her from the evils of this world.

_Why is a raven like a writing desk?_

He had never had a clear answer.

_Can you stand on your head?_

Perhaps. There were so many questions but did the meaning go anywhere? Who is a Hatter, what is the Hatter? What's the hatter with you? Ha! All of these things, he contemplated, archiving the questions and potential answers for later. The seriousness of the ramblings and their answers must be accorded. Vale and Harleen were priorities, and so were the rest of the incarnations. They just had to show themselves.

_So on that night, the Hatter lay,_

_Dreaming of a world where he could lie with his Alice,_

_ Caressing her heart in one hand, and her brain in the other,_

_ For he idolized both. _

It was not an uncommon thing to imagine the possibilities of his time with Alice. Love her forever, Tetch, because you're her savior. Rescue her from this dream. _HATE BATMAN! HATE THE EGGMAN! AND THE RED KNIGHT! AND THE JESTER!_

"WHY?" Jervis screamed, banging his fists up and down upon the bed. "I don't understand! How is that every time I try to save her, he comes and takes her and steals her and robs her, nabs her and AAGH! I CAN'T STAND IT! NOT ANYMORE! AND I WON'T TAKE IT!" He leapt upon the floor and began to throw the blankets across the room, hitting the wall with a loud thump. Harleen and three more inmates across the way jumped, staring over into the Hatter's cell to see what ailed him, and watched with wide eyes as he wrecked the framework of his bed, tipping it over in his rage. "WHY IS A RAVEN LIKE A WRITING DESK!? AGGH! WHAT DOES IT MATTER!? WHY THE 'ELL DO I EVEN NEED TO KNOW!?"

An alarm went off at once, a flash of blue out in the hall. It rang loudly, emitting a series of quick whoops loud enough to equal a police siren. There came the passionate scurrying of several armed guards at once, crashing through a nearby door, Sharp's personal emergency dispatch if any alarm went off during the night. They were all strapped in thick black body armor, their faces covered with combat helmets. The Hatter ran at the glass, banging a shoulder against it in an attempt to shatter the thing, but the guards were all aiming their rifles. He saw the guard in the most forward front raise a hand, and then slice downward.

Two guards rushed forward, the other four keeping their aim, and Jervis reeled back as the two guards forced keycards into either lock upon the door. The glass shot horizontally the moment both cards were inserted, and Jervis panicked. He held up his hands.

"Don't bother me now!"

"Fire!" the guard in front commanded.

A quick blast of noise, and sparks flew as a black cloud exploded from the rifles' ends. Jervis felt a sudden shock go through his system, and his world went black all around him. Noiseless. Blackness. Sightless and smelless was this world that he fell into. Physically, his body collapsed. Mentally, all faded into a wondrous dream…

_Alice was waving at him from a hilltop, her frilly blue and white dress blowing slightly in the cool wind around them. Standing on either side of her were two beings: the Eggman and the Red Knight. They were both standing perfectly still, watching him…waiting for him…_

He was shaking in the bed that they had strapped him down into…

_"__Come on, Hatter! Come and join us! We're waiting for you!" Alice cried. Jervis laughed merrily, a child's laugh, no less. He bobbled up the sandy way and joined the trio at the top of the hill. But when he approached, the Red Knight and the Eggman both moved in front of Alice, as if they were a protective guard…_

He could hear them, whispering to each other.

"Dr. Cassidy, please! You've worked with Victor Zsaaz, of all people! This man is suffering the same transitional delusion!"

"I don't…I don't feel comfortable…it really should be Dr. Whistler, she was the one who-"

"Sarah… can I call you Sarah? Whistler recommended you to this case…"

"I- maybe. I don't know. The patient's clearly not going to be much good to my study in this matter. After Victor, I just don't know if-"

"Sarah, please! This is a severely disturbed man... he needs a gentle touch, and you were able to handle Vic- well, I mean, you tried, and you managed too- ah…"

_"__You stay away from her," the Eggman told him threateningly. _

_ The Hatter felt fire rise up inside of him. __"__She's MINE! My Alice! Alice, come to me…come to me…" _

_Alice's smile…it was so sad… "No, Hatter. He's right. I don't think I want you touching me."_

_ "BUT YOU CALLED ME! DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU UNGRATEFUL HEATHEN!? YOU FOCKING LITTLE SLUT! YOU CALLED ME! YOU FOCKING CALLED ME!" _

_"__You have no place in Wonderland," the Red Knight taunted at him. The Hatter turned on him. _

_ "This is my world, you wretched little bah-stard! My reign, my focking dynasty! You won't deny me my Alice!"_

_ "Your Alice never existed," the Eggman lied to him. _

_ "That's right, I never have, Hatter. And I never will." Even she was lying. She was feeding the Eggman his dose of confidence. He simply must strangle them. Cut them and beat them and crunch on their bones…_

_"__Why don't you get your focking little head out of that book, you little piece of shat!?" _

_The Hatter spun around on the spot. She was standing there, grinning with her yellow teeth at him, a cigar in one hand, and around her other arm a dirty looking man in a stained t-shirt. Her frizzled graying hair and smoker's wrinkles were disgusting. _

_ "What did you say to me, you creature!?" he demanded of the ghost that had pretended to be his mother for years. _

_ "You hear what I say? Get your head out of those books. What the hell is this? "Alice in Wonderland"? Sounds like pornography to me…"_

_ And then, a smaller voice. A voice without a body, within the air itself. _

_"__But it's not! It's NOT! It's an adventure book!" _

_"__Alice in Wonderland? What the fock is that, you little filth!?" the ghost mother screamed. Alice, the Red Knight, and the Eggman were snickering behind him. The Hatter was shaking with an explosive fury that may perhaps literally undo his physical form. _

_"__It's about-"_

_ "SHUT UP!" The woman swiped at the air, and the Hatter heard the small boy scream, crying in pain. _

_"__M-momma!"_

_ "I SAID SHUT IT YOU FOCKING LITTLE PIECE OF CRAP!"_

_ Tears fell down Jervis's face. __"__Stop it…please stop it…" he whispered. _

"He appears to be dreaming. And it looks like it's bothering him. I won't recommend a wake up, however, as the shock of being pulled from the nightmare might hurt him worse than the actual dream state. I'll let him sit him out and then attempt a revive."

"Good girl, Dr. Cassidy. Listen to me, you can do this. Just keep him restrained and make sure the bed is kept far from any objects that could be put to-"

"I know how to handle this situation, Doctor."

"Of…of course."

_"__You…you don't understand me…" Jervis told the ghost mother. "I'll…I'll never let you hurt me again….never…" _

_"__Don't you talk back to me! You hear me, you little piece of crap!?"_

_ "No…"_

_ "WHAT THE FOCK DID YOU SAY TO ME, JERVIS!?"_

_ "He said no," Alice helped. _

_ The ghost mother was advancing upon Jervis. But the Hatter stood his ground. _

_ "I will NEVER let you hurt me again!"_

_ And he bolted at her. _

"No…no, no, no….never again…not ever again, you horrid creature…" Jervis muttered in his sleep. Sarah Cassidy gulped. What could he be dreaming about? "I won't…ever let…you hurt me again….Alice….Alice, run! RUN! GO, RUN NOW! GO! GO!"

Sarah sighed, picking up the syringe filled with Remedial 47.

"Oh, Jervis Tetch…" She closed her eyes, feeling his pain. "Is there any of you left inside of this shell?"

Her own tears fell down and plopped upon his cheek. 


End file.
